


This is Only a Test

by ShutUpandPull



Category: Castle
Genre: Caskett, Christmas, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5582557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShutUpandPull/pseuds/ShutUpandPull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I set this piece during what would've been Christmastime in season 4, based upon the following online prompt I happened upon: "Pre: Castle asks Beckett to help him look for a Christmas tree and has her help decorate."</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Only a Test

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank you to those people who take the time to submit prompts online. I love exploring these characters beyond the show and without the creativity of the prompts I stumble upon, I don't think I'd be able to write much of anything at all. Happy 2016, all!

It really was his favorite time of year. The city was magnificent every single day; Castle knew that to be true. But there was some kind of palpable magic that swirled through the brisk late-December air that elevated Christmastime in New York to new heights of special, and he felt that magic more in this year than in any other in recent memory. Something had shifted in his relationship with Beckett since their separation of too many days and months, and though they weren’t yet in the place he’d been dreaming of for so long, the hope in his heart that had waned in her absence had since been replenished. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but this Christmas felt like it might be different.

It was the end of a particularly exhausting week, and the snow that’d been threatening for days finally began to fall over the grey city. It was the best kind of snow, too - the kind that didn’t bring with it frustration and dread, but rather wonder and comfort, as though everything was suddenly exactly as it should be. Castle hitched a ride back to the Twelfth with Ryan and Espo that afternoon, and he gazed out the window, utterly enchanted, as a pair of children stood arm in arm in the middle of the sidewalk with their mouths agape in wait of tumbling flakes. He thought of Alexis and his memories of the very same, and he smiled as the two giggled with joy at the simple pleasure.

Tuesday’s homicide had become Wednesday’s double homicide, but they were all on their way into the weekend without any loose ends. Beckett had done what she always did best in Interrogation One and had managed to successfully encourage their suspect to give up his accomplice earlier that morning. She stayed behind at the scene after the longer-than-it-should’ve-been takedown to help the techs tie things together, and Castle seized the opportunity to duck out with the boys and avoid the boring stuff. Not to mention the fact that he had Christmas tree shopping to do and the arrival of the snow had him more excited than ever.

“This weather sucks,” hissed Espo from the front seat. “Like these a-hole cabbies need an excuse to drive worse.”

Ryan looked up over the steering wheel at the sky when he stopped the car for the red light. “Jenny loves this weather. Ever since she was a little girl she-“

“And I suppose that means you have to love it too, right, bro?” Espo broke in with obvious scorn.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Scrooge?” Ryan barked back, both confused and affronted, taking no notice of the now green glow before them.

“Light,” Castle said calmly from behind as the cars around them moved past. Espo shifted his body and angled towards the backseat as Ryan finally jerked the car through the intersection. Castle’s focus remained trained on the crowded sidewalks and the fresh white blanket building beneath all the booted feet.

“Awful quiet back there, peanut gallery. One word’s all we get, huh?” Castle turned to Espo deliberately, as though entirely unamused by the interruption of his winter’s day reverie. “Whatever, bro, you probably love this snow BS too. All the poetry and adjectives and shit. Like candy to a writer.” He shook his head disapprovingly, already anticipating Castle’s response.

“You know, Javier, you’re such a romantic, I just can’t imagine why things didn’t work out between you and Lanie,” Castle quipped, eliciting a chuckle from Ryan who was still pouting behind the wheel. “And, if you must know, yes, I am, in fact, a fan of this snow BS and of the entire Christmas season, and there’s no better place on Earth to celebrate either than in this city.”

Espo exhaled a mocking _pfft_ and twisted back around. “Good luck scoring Beckett with that sappy crap, bro.” Castle returned to his window with a soft grin. That was the last thing any of them said until they got back to the precinct.

 

**xxxx**

 

Beckett stepped off the elevator into a blissfully quiet bull pen, the grey of afternoon having already given way to the black of night. She’d hoped to sneak out early after the case had so nicely fallen into place, but her time with the techs and a stop at Lanie’s office had taken far longer than expected, and the city’s Friday afternoon traffic certainly hadn’t helped the cause at all. She shuffled in with her attention buried in her phone as she returned Espo’s _Gates bolted so we did too. Call if you need anything_. text with a _You owe me an early Friday now_ text of her own, so she didn’t notice Castle sitting in his chair at her desk, even when she was just a step away.

“Nice job today,” Castle said, his voice deliciously gravelly and sincere.

“Jeez, Castle,” Beckett sighed in a fluster, “what are you still doing here? I was just…Espo said you guys had left already.” She dropped her phone onto her desk and peeled off her scarf.

He’d been thinking about it all afternoon. He’d never really talked to Beckett about Christmas before and he wasn’t entirely sure why that was. But today he wanted to. Today the desire was so strong in him that he couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Whatever it was - the shift, the snow, the case, the kids with their delighted tongues - this was the moment. “No, I, uh, I told them I wanted to wait for you so they took off.”

“Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure, Castle?” she asked with more than a hint of sarcasm, her hands at rest along the top of her chair.

“You know, I’m going to choose, as I so often do, to turn a deaf ear to the mockery in your tone and to extend my invitation, anyway.” He watched as her expression turned with perceptible suspicion.

“Do I need to sit down for this?” Beckett teased. She waited, but after a moment, his playful look of impatience grew too tempting. “Fine, sorry, go ahead, Castle.”

He tried his best to swallow away the dryness in his throat. “Well, Detective, if you aren’t otherwise engaged this evening, I was hoping you might agree to be the Sally to my Harry.” Sure, it was a borrowed reference, but in his semi-anxious state, he couldn’t come up with a more charming way to ask.

Her brow furrowed as she attempted to understand what it was he was actually inviting her to do. “Wait, the Sally-“

“Oh, sorry, no,” he interjected with a blush of his cheeks, “not the diner thing with the--no. I meant the Christmas tree thing. The diner thing is…no,” he stammered in embarrassment.

Beckett bit at the inside of her cheek and tried not to smile. “Yeah, my mind didn’t even go there, Castle. Interesting that yours did, though.” She reached down and picked her scarf back up off the desk. “So, now, what exactly is the ‘Christmas tree thing’?” she asked, wrapping the evergreen cashmere around her neck once again.

He knew he couldn’t salvage what he’d already said, so he just went with it and moved on. “Well, Alexis is off on a post-exams ski weekend and my mother is probably working on an egg nog buzz at her director’s holiday dinner party right about now, so I’m left to search for this year’s tree on my own. I thought, maybe, I mean I know it’s last minute and it’s Friday night and you probably already have plans but-“

“I’ll be your Sally, Castle,” she answered, interrupting his ramble, “though I’m pretty sure this is all just some ploy so you have someone to carry the other end of the tree.”

His heart began fluttering excitedly in his chest. “After all these years, Detective, I guess you know me all too well. Can’t put anything past you.” He pushed out of the chair and grabbed his coat from around the back. “You need some time to settle things here first?” She glanced around at the empty bull pen and at Gates’ dark office. “It can wait until Monday.”

Castle couldn’t stop thinking about the damn diner all the way to the Christmas tree lot. And then all the way home.

 

**xxxx**

 

It was all a bit surreal. Somehow the universe, in just one day’s time, had seen fit to triumphantly bring together his favorite holiday and his favorite woman in a synchronism that Castle could only describe as paradisiacal. There they stood, together, crammed into the inadequately sized box of an elevator in his building, bookending the most exquisite Christmas tree he’d ever seen, and Beckett was the one who’d picked it out - and with an adorable “Harry, it’s back here!” holler, no less. It was everything he could do to keep from bursting into one of his mother’s Broadway show tunes right then and there.

They’d laughed all the way home. He wished he had a video recording of it to watch over and over again. If she wasn’t slipping and sliding in her impractical but sexy as hell heeled boots, he was pushing them tree tip first into poor unsuspecting pedestrians on the sidewalks around them. It was messy and ridiculous and perfect and he never wanted it to end. Everything he wanted in that moment he had. The snow had brought him everything.

They stumbled out of the elevator between the automatic doors that amusingly wouldn’t cooperate and shed needles all the way down the hallway to his door. “Thank you for inviting me tonight, Castle,” she said, propping her end of the tree against the wall and blowing aside an errant piece of hair that’d fallen across her cheek. “I actually had a lot of fun.”

“Well, you don’t need to sound so surprised, Detective. Fun is my middle name, after all.” He stomped the snow from his shoes and reached into his pocket for his keys.

“Harry Fun Castle. It’s got a nice ring to it,” she teased. She tugged at the ends of her scarf because she couldn’t figure out what else to do with her hands. “So, I guess I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah, Monday,” Castle said, kicking himself as soon as the words came out for agreeing when her leaving was the last thing he wanted. Luckily she’d made it just a few steps down the hallway when his regret called after her. “Or you could stay and help me decorate this beautiful Christmas beast. I mean, if you wanted. Please don’t feel any pressure to stay if there’s somewhere you-”

“Castle, you’re rambling again.” She stopped and turned. “I can only imagine what your poor editor must go through.” She walked back towards him – towards the man and his perfect, bare tree. “You can’t get this thing through the door by yourself, can you?”

“It wouldn’t be pretty,” he admitted with a nod. “So I, uh, I’d love it if you’d stay, if not for me then for her.” He delicately caressed one of the branches of needles. “She’s been through a lot tonight already.”

Beckett smiled and rolled her eyes playfully. “After you this time, Castle,” she said and she crouched to grab the tree’s end.

 

**xxxx**

 

He had boxes full of ornaments and decorations stacked up in a closet upstairs and it took him several trips to bring them all down. He’d told Beckett to help herself to the beer in the fridge and she’d opened one for him as well. The fireplace was on against the back wall and the loft was already blissfully warm - cozy, even. “I think that’s the last of them,” Castle said as he set the final box on top of the stack of others. “I’ll be able to tell if something’s missing once we open all these up.”

“You mean there might be more?” Beckett looked at the stack in disbelief. “Is the goal to eventually get the Rockefeller Center tree to surrender or what?”

She made him laugh and he nearly spit out his mouthful of beer. “You know, I’m not sure I can trust you yet with the details of my plan. We’ll just have to see how the night goes.” He stepped towards her and extended his bottle. “Cheers, Sally. Let’s dress her up.”

Box after box, Castle moved with precision and Beckett moved with grace, their artistic styles complementing each other like ingredients in a perfect recipe. Their creation was sublime at every stage, though they’d never know the full extent of it until it was time to dim the lights and plug her in. He could feel it enough for both of them, though, even if she couldn’t quite see it yet. He knew that certainty well. He felt it about her - about them - more every day.

Castle ducked away for a moment to grab each of them another beer and when he returned he found Beckett staring into one of the last remaining boxes with a look on her face that he couldn’t quite read. “What’s wrong?” he asked, moving towards her with the bottle he’d opened for her. And then he saw it. He saw the tiny bunches of green leaves pulled together with red ribbon. He’d completely forgotten about that box. Or maybe he’d put it out of his mind because the thought of her and it in the same room with him made his head swim.

“Castle, is this _all_ mistletoe?” She pulled out several clusters of it but the collection seemed endless. “What exactly goes on in this place at Christmas?”

He began to feel his words slipping away as he stood there like a deer in headlights. “No, it’s just...you know, over the years one collects things and, well, I guess you’ve found me out. I’m a mistletoe hoarder.” Humor was his way out of this. Humor was his friend. “Two cases solved in one day, Detective. I’m impressed.”

Beckett let out a tiny laugh and set the box down, but not before plucking one bunch out with her fingers. “Where do you usually hang it?” Apparently he couldn’t talk his way out of it, humor or otherwise. She already appeared to be looking around the room for the optimal spot.

“Um, usually I just hang it right over there along the underside of the stairs. I can just-”

“Grab the step stool, Castle.” She said it with such delicious authority that he almost went numb.

He took a deep breath once she’d turned away and he went to retrieve the stool. He could do this. He could survive this. It was only Christmastime. It was only the woman he loved. It was only a host plant-killing parasite. “I can climb up and do it if you want,” he offered with a sticky hook ready in hand. Maybe the air was better a few steps up. Maybe he could actually breathe up there.

“No, I’ve got it, Castle, thanks. You wait down there.” He nodded his concession. In the state he was in, he probably would’ve agreed to anything she said.

He watched as she stepped up and hung it perfectly, just as he would’ve. “There,” she said sounding adorably proud. He offered her a hand as she stepped backwards off the stool and she took it, but she didn’t let go once she reached the floor. “Well,” she said.

Castle looked up at the stair and then back at her. “Well, uh, good job?” he asked more than said, confused by her one word statement or question; he knew not which.

“You know, Castle, for a smart guy, you can be awfully dumb sometimes,” she told him as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. He didn’t move much, couldn’t really, but she lingered there for a second or two just the same. Once she pulled back, their eyes met and he could hardly believe what’d happened. “Just wanted to make sure it was functioning properly, Castle. Yep,” she said as she stepped around him for her bottle of beer.

He drew his fingers to his lips without even realizing it. God, he could’ve done so much better had he known. He was so ready for this - in the theoretical sense - he could practically taste it. How could he not have...Why did he...He cleared his throat in an effort to regain some composure. “You know, um, I’m not really sure if just one test of the system is enough, now that I think about it. I’ve heard about this mistletoe stuff failing before and that could really be a holiday disaster.”

“Is that so? Failing, huh?” She smiled softly and set down her bottle again before approaching. He hadn’t yet moved an inch, more by bodily failure than by choice. “Well, I suppose one more test in the interest of avoiding a holiday disaster would be well worth the time and energy, then.”

Warmth crept up the back of his neck as she stood before him. His pulse raced and his breath quickened. “Um, can I ask just one favor before we try this again?” He suddenly remembered Espo’s wisecrack in the car earlier about not being able to get anywhere with Beckett with his ‘sappy crap.’ If only he could see them now. “Any chance we can photograph this one so I can rub it in Espo’s face later?”

 


End file.
